The Bittersweet Love
by littlemizzsmart
Summary: It was love in its purest form. If it hadn't had to have changed, would he have done? Chapter 5 Now up! Rating changed to M
1. Prologue

**Ok, I thought about it, and I did it, in the space of about two hours since I suggested it on chapter 2 of The Many Causes of Anger. I have a bad history with multi chaptered stories, but you all seem like an encouraging group of reading minions, so here goes. I cannot promise anything, particularly on length, as I tend to stop when I feel the story has reached its natural point, but I'm going to try.**

**Disclaimer: All recognizable content the property of Marvel.**

**Prologue**

He did not know when it was that he first fell in love with her. He had admired her for a long time, thought her strong, beautiful, a fitting companion for any man. Never for him though.

She had trusted him explicitly, understood his nature. She didn't expect anything, just accepted what he was. Different.

Their love was pure, unconditional and perfect.

Then his father got involved.

And everything had to change.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Only unrecognisable content is mine**

"Over here! Look this way Mrs Littmann!"

"Mrs Littmann!"

"Are you satisfied with the result?"

"Mrs Littmann!"

"What did you think of the proceedings?"

"Mrs Littmann!"

So many voices. So many flashes. People everywhere, pushing, jostling, desperate to catch a glimpse.

"I have here a statement on behalf of my client, which, if you all kept quiet, you would be able to hear."

Silence.

"I am extremely pleased with the result. Justice was on my side and it was done today. No one should have to live in a spiral of fear at any point in their life, or suffer the way I have done. I want to thank my supporters, without you, the struggle would not have been worth it. Now, I just want to live out my life in peace, and I hope you can respect that. Thank you."

Of course the silence didn't last.

"Mrs Littmann!"

"Will you remain in the city?"

"Mrs Littmann."

"No more comments, ladies and gentlemen, no more comments."

Bless her lawyer.

She couldn't stand to be there. The carpet hadn't even been cleaned.

The bloodstains and spatters were still there.

She would be able to collect her son soon, but she couldn't bring him here.

They couldn't stay there.

David shuffled his feet behind her. Watching her. Then he cleared his throat.

"The prosecutor, he…he didn't want anything disturbed. Thought that it might affect the evidence…something like that."

She turned to face him.

"It's all right. We won't be staying anyway. Can you call a taxi? I just want to get my son."

He nodded, struck once more by her incredible strength. The unchanged apartment was a last attack from the prosecutor, as if she hadn't had enough of those.

"Of course."

As he turned to leave, her voice, soft and quiet, stopped him.

"Thank you David."

He nodded once, and then left.

It was a normal trip to Midgard. A chance to experiment with travelling along the hidden pathways between the worlds.

Midgard had always interesting; thousands of different cultures and beliefs coexisting, inventions, ideas, war and peace. Everything happened so quickly, as though the mortals believed that the world would end at any moment, therefore they had to cram every human experience in at once.

He didn't like Midgard, but it was certainly an entertaining spectacle.

He also didn't like mistakes. Mistakes cost him.

This time he arrived on Midgard right in front of a mortal woman.

Damn.

The appearance of the man in front of her was nothing if not surprising. She opened her mouth to scream, but he moved quicker than that, a cold hand was clamped over mouth, and a face loomed close to hers. Her heart thudded in terror and her eyes were wide. She sought the bloodstains on the carpet, reminding her of the importance of fighting. Then she started struggling and twisting, trying to escape his grip.

He believed her reaction was a bit extreme. Based on his limited experiences with mortal women, he knew they tended to be a bit…wary around strange men, but this one was just intense. Currently he felt like he was wrestling with an eel! Underneath his hands she felt small and slender, and she was as skittish as a colt. Pushing her to the floor and keeping his hand firmly over her mouth, he crouched, one knee pressed firmly on the centre of her back to keep her still.

Loki bent his head close to her ear.

"I'm going to remove my hand now my dear, and you aren't going to make any noise are you?"

He felt her shake her head. Smirking, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and let go his hand. Scanning his environment, he noticed two things.

The bloodstains on the carpet, and the tears running down her cheeks.

Putting two and two together, he made four, and flipped her over so that she was lying under him on her back.

"Who's blood is that sweetheart hmmm? Who did you kill in this room? And why have you revisited the scene of the crime?"

She swallowed, the tears still pouring from her soulful brown eyes. His expression revealed none of his thoughts as he ran his hand gently down her cheek, catching the tiny droplets of liquid.

"Please…"

Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions as they threatened to overwhelm her.

Never in her life had she imagined that she would be in virtually the same position ever again; begging for her life. Was she though? Before she was, because she knew exactly what he was capable of, but this man was unknown to her.

She tried again.

"Please, I…I have a son…if you let me get him I….I promise we'll disappear…I won't say a word, I…"

He pressed a pale, elegant finger to her lips, silencing her.

"Your son is not here."

She shook her head, a swift, jerky movement.

"He…he is in the care of his grandparents…but I have to collect him, I…"

The man stopped her again.

"Your name then, sweetheart."

"I…I am not your sweetheart…"

"Your name!"

He was showing all the signs of frustration and anger. This man was one who was very good at disguising his thoughts and feelings, but she was equally as good at reading even the most hidden ones. She had to be, it was how she was still alive.

"My name is…is… Sonja Rother…formerly Littmann…"

He raised a dark, defined eyebrow.

"Formerly Littmann?"

She closed her eyes and took a relieving breath. She had to escape his gaze, if only for a moment. His eyes bored into her, as though he could see into the depths of her very soul, knew all her deepest, darkest secrets.

"The surname of my hu…husband…"

"And where is your husband now?"

There was silence, as she held his gaze, and she became aware of the steady ticking of a clock in the background. She didn't know this man, or what he was doing here, or how he appeared. What was imperative though was that she got to her son before time ran out.

"I killed him. I killed my husband."


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I wish to, but do NOT own. **

He took the news quite well. Indeed he didn't even have a visible reaction. Nothing in his expression or body gave away any sign that he was affected by her revelation. It was as if he was made of stone.

She was able to push him off her though, and scramble away and stand up. Perhaps he was scared of her, nervous about what she had done, that she might do it again.

Then he smirked, and slowly raised himself up to stand.

"Well, well sweetheart, not quite the innocent you would have me believe are you?"

Neither of them moved. She stayed where she was, refusing to run from him, and he did not advance towards her. Sonja wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and sniffed. Determined to be strong, and receive answers, she began her own questioning.

"How did you get in my apartment?"

"Why did you kill your husband?"

It shocked her. He didn't know? The saga had been played out across every newspaper, every television screen for over a year! Her trial had been broadcast on live television! People she didn't even know, and would never ever know knew her face, knew her story. And he didn't know? It angered her. Why was he allowed the privilege of ignorance, when everyone else had demanded to know otherwise? Even now tabloids were publishing their responses, and her phone, when she eventually got it back, would have a dozen missed calls and messages, all requesting an exclusive, a moment of her time, an appearance for a talk show. Her life once more a spectacle and it sickened her.

He saw her expression harden, her eyes grow angry, and her voice become cold.

"Why don't you go find a newspaper and read the story there, just like everybody else? What makes you entitled not to know my business, when everyone else does? You turn up in my apartment out of nowhere, force me to the ground and subject me to a terror, which I thought I would never have to experience ever again!"

She was shouting at the end, her voice raised and chest heaving with the effort of the emotion she had just expelled. He thought that she was one of those females who looked more beautiful when they were angry. He also thought that he needed to leave and find a newspaper. Clearly anything more that he wanted to know would not be forthcoming from her.

Loki stepped back, and bowed slightly at the waist.

"Very well. I can see my line of questioning has troubled you greatly. I will not add to your distress any further. I bid you good day Sonya Rother, I am sure we will see each other again,"

And then, with a blink of an eye, he was gone. It was as if he had never been there. David bumbled through the door moments later, utterly oblivious to the entire occurrence.

"The taxi is here to take you to your parents Sonya."

He took her demeanour and frowned.

"Come. It is not good for you to be here. I would suggest you sell it, but…"

"But who would bear to live here now?"

Sighing, he held out his hand to her, and she moved in front of him, leaving the bloodstained apartment for good.

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The reaction from her parents was expected. Bitterness, anger, hatred. All because she was not rotting away in a prison cell, for the murder of her angelically perfect husband.

For in their eyes, he could do no wrong. Even when she went to them after the first time, even after she went there, running away, her son in tow and a single bag tucked under her arm, even after it had nearly been her blood staining that carpet, he could do no wrong.

They stood for the prosecution, desperate to prove her guilt, to see her punished. They led the army of haters against her.

At least they loved her son, and agreed that caring for him was the best thing. She didn't doubt that he would receive better treatment there than at an institution. For his sake, they had consented to keep their views on the trial, and the entire situation to themselves. He was so young, and the upheaval in his life so huge, that he didn't need to hear his grandparents twisted beliefs.

They couldn't keep him. Legally he was hers. Even the courts could not deny that she was an excellent mother, and that should she be found innocent, that her son would reside with her. Well she was found innocent, and they would be leaving; residing away from the city, even another country, if she could manage it, although she doubted it.

He threw himself into her arms and squeezed her tight, and she felt tears spring into her eyes as she breathed in the smell of her child. She had done it for him.

"You're back mummy!"

Sonya smiled down at him. She smoothed back his messy mop of blonde curls, looking into the warm brown eyes staring up at her, full of childish innocence. Thankfully it was still there. Despite his best attempts, he had not destroyed it.

"Yes my darling, for good."

He grinned, a gap where his two front teeth should be.

"Are we going to stay with grandma and granddad?"

Shaking her head slightly, she looked at David, who was standing with her son's possessions, directing the taxi driver as to how their luggage should be loaded.

"There is a house for us in the country. It is only small, but big enough for the two of us. It has a garden with a swing. I thought we could live there instead?"

He thought hard, little thoughts swirling round his brain.

"Can I have a rabbit?"

And she laughed for the first time in months, picking him up and swinging him round in her arms.

"You can have a whole warren of rabbits if that is what you want!"

Things were going to be ok. She hadn't forgotten about the stranger, who appeared out of nowhere, but he was nothing to her now, and she would never see him again.

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Loki could not say the same. One issue the Trickster God had always had was that of boredom. He thrived on feeding the mind, thinking, solving and mastering the unknown.

Right now, the unknown was Sonya Rother, formerly Littman.

She was an example of a complex mortal, and they always fascinated him. In a society that was essentially ruled by base and primal instincts, glossing them over with fancy and nonsensical meanings, she was a rarity, like a fine wine or a natural gemstone.

He had followed her to the house of two mortals, she had said that they were her parents, but they did not display any of the natural parental behaviour. Her own towards her son though, reminded him of his own mother. He had never doubted her love or acceptance; it had always been showered upon him unconditionally. Just as it was with Sonya Rother and her son.

One thing bothered, and that was the behaviour of the man she called David. No matter how well he hid it from Sonya, the man was besotted with her. To a master of emotions such as Loki, he could see it as clear as day. It was in his expression, the way he doted on her, his body language.

As he watched them climb into a taxi and drive away, he was struck by the knowledge that he was more than interested in Sonya Rother. She was beautiful, strong and troubled. Like a time bomb, it was only a matter of time before he would get the information he sought. He would not cheat, and turn to a publication or a news broadcast. He would get the information from her own lips, complete with all of her own emotions and responses, one way or another.

For now it was clear that he knew what Sonya did not, and that was that they would most definitely be seeing each other soon. With the exception of the occasional check in at Asgard, he would stay on Midgard until he had what he sought. He was prepared to use her son, and to resort to the darkest of sorcery.

Loki had found a new pastime, and he would not stop playing until he got bored.


	4. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the great reviews, it's uplifting to see how many of you appreciate something so different! Just to clarify a few queries, this is a Loki/OC, and the events occur roughly 18 months before the film begins, also it is set in Cumbria, England. This is my take on what contributed to his abrupt change in behaviour, so in that sense, this is slightly AU. **

**Disclaimer: I'm a student, we can't even afford uni fees, let alone the rights to Marvel…**

She thought it was perfect for them. Two bedrooms, open plan living with a large garden set against the backdrop of the Western Lakes, isolated, but not far from the small village of Buttermere. The lake and the fells were on her doorstep, maximising the sense of freedom she had craved for so long. Her son, Adam, had got his wish, and was bought a Rabbit, which he promptly called Rambo. Unlike its namesake, it was lazy and large, content to eat and sleep rather than do anything else. Adam had been enrolled in the local school, a new experience as he had been homeschooled for most of his life, and she concentrated on decorating and gardening.

For the first time in Sonya's life, things were perfect.

Until the stranger she had almost forgotten about reappeared in her kitchen, causing her to spill a mug of hot tea over her hand.

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Her reaction was amusing. He hadn't expected her to completely forget about him. What wasn't amusing was the rather long and sharp looking meat cleaver she had grabbed from the knife block, and was currently brandishing in his direction.

"You!" She shrieked loudly, causing him to believe that he may loose all hearing in his ears should she carry on along the same vein. He disappeared.

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When he reappeared in front of her, she was glad that she was holding a knife, and not tea, as she was fairly sure that the whole mug would have ended up all over her. Be that as it may, holding the knife made no difference either, particularly when he grasped he wrist, bending it at an angle, until it became so painful that she was forced to drop the knife.

He spun her round, so that her back was against his chest, his arms wrapped around her waist and chest, locking her against him firmly. His breath tickled her ear and he bent down so that his cheek was resting against hers.

What happened next was surprising. Pressing open mouthed kisses down her neck, making her shiver, he spoke softly.

"Did you miss me dearest?"

Her breath hitched in her throat. It was her own naivety and shock, but she had forgotten him. She had dismissed the incident at the apartment as a dream, a figment of her exhausted mind, but apparently not. He had followed her, knew exactly where she lived, which meant that he must know about her past.

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Underneath his hands, Loki felt her muscles tense, felt her start to struggle, and he tightened his grip, locking her into place, making it impossible for her to move. He found that he was starting to enjoy her responses to his kisses, for she always surprised him.

"You have a few things to tell me lover."

He kissed her neck again, and his hand drifted upwards to lightly touch her breast. She gasped and shuddered again, and he decided that he very much enjoyed her reactions.

"What…What do you mean?"

She was breathless as he continued his assault on her neck and breath, and he smiled, before turning her again so that she faced him, her eyes were closed, and she clung to him, making no attempt to get away.

"A few things about…your husband perhaps?"

She stilled, and looked up at him, soulful eyes staring at him in shock.

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He didn't know. Clearly following her suggestion of getting the story from a newspaper wasn't what he wanted to do. For some obscure reason, he wanted to hear the story from her own lips.

"I killed him."

His lips thinned, and his expression darkened.

"I know that. What I want to know is why?"

His voice was cold, and she shivered, but for an entirely different reason this time.

"Why is it important that you know?"

He grabbed her chin, and tilted her face up to look at his. Bending down, so that their lips were almost touching, he murmured;

"Because you are a very interesting mortal, Sonya Rother."

And then he kissed her.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately not my property. **

It was unlike any other kiss she had ever experienced. He was cold to touch, but his kisses were anything but. She leaned into him, resting her hands against his chest as he plundered her mouth.

When he broke away she missed it, until she saw his smirk, the satisfied expression on his face, the dark glint in his eyes, and she realised that in that small moment after the kiss ended that she would have told him anything and everything.

In anger, she tried to pull away, but he held her tight.

"In ten minutes, your son is going to walk through the door. Unfortunately he will slip on a puddle of water, fall and break his neck, killing him instantly. Of course, this could change, if you just told me what I wanted to know."

She shook, and she cursed the tears welling up in her eyes. She had to tell him, unable to face the thought of the threat to her son. The kiss was purposeful. It was designed to disarm her, to lull her into a false sense of security, making his attack all the more painful.

When she tried to look down, he stopped her, keeping her gaze level with his.

"I killed him because he was going to kill me."

There. She had said it, and now he could go. He had got what wanted, hadn't he?

Apparently not, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

"You know this to be true?"

"He had tried before. He would have succeeded if I hadn't stopped him."

"And yet to stop him you had to kill him?"

She was silent. It was a question she had been asked in court, and she'd had difficulty answering then. She couldn't make anyone understand that her husband would not have stopped, unless he was dead. The grip on her chin tightened almost painfully.

"He, he wouldn't have stopped otherwise, I…I tried to go to the police, but they wouldn't listen, they wouldn't listen!"

As her voice rose he shushed her, one his free hand stroking the small of her back, and he bent down to kiss her again, but she leaned away, disgusted by his touch after the threats made to her son.

He permitted her moment of obstinacy, but he still didn't let her go.

"You have five minutes left," He murmured "to tell me what I want to know, and before your son walks through that door…"

He didn't need to finish his sentence; she now doubted that his threat was just that, a threat, and something that he would carry out.

"He…he took his rights as a husband literally, and to the extreme…"

She was unable to finish her explanation when her son bounded through the front door, shrieking with laughter.

Sonja felt him disappear next to her, saw the puddle of water lying on the floor, directly in her son's pathway, and ran to intercept him.

Time passed in slow motion, as she reached, and slipped on that innocent puddle. Landing on her back, with her head whacked against the tiled floor, she felt a sharp pain jolt through her body. In the background, she could hear her son screaming, and the neighbour who dropped him off exclaiming in shock, heard her call for an ambulance.

And as the darkness began cloud her vision, she swore she saw a raven with green eyes, and a green sheen to its feathers land on the branch outside her window, and stare at her, croaking evilly.

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Hospitals were not where he generally spent his time on Midgard. Then again, neither had he expected her to literally, take the fall for the boy. If the idiot child hadn't been early then he knew he would have the information he wanted. As it was, he had to carry out what he had stated; otherwise she would never learn to fear him properly. There was a tiny particle of pity in his chest for the boy though. It was clear that the child had had far too much upheaval in his short life already.

One thing he was certain of was that she was never going to reveal the details of her life with her husband after he hospitalized her.

Perhaps carrying out his threat wasn't his smartest idea he'd ever had.

All was not lost however. The neighbour had temporary care of the boy, and was situated next to Sonya's hospital bed, waiting for news from the doctor.

He looked into the glass window which overlooked her private room in the hospital. Unseen to human eyes, he assumed the appearance of a human businessman, swathed in a dark green woollen coat over a charcoal suit. He strode into the room, startling the woman with his urgency.

"I've just got the news, is she alright?"

Clearly taken aback by the arrival of the stranger, the neighbour, a portly woman in her mid forties named Mrs Addett did not quite know what to make of the handsome, young man who had stormed into the room and was now clutching her illustrious neighbour's hand.

"Err excuse me, but who are you?"

The man glanced at her with piercing emerald eyes and smiled, baring his gleaming white teeth.

"Forgive me Madam, but my name is Liam Oldin. Miss Rother is a _very _close friend of mine. I was on my way to see her when the hospital phoned to tell me she had been involved in an accident."

Loki flashed a smile, and rejoiced internally when he saw that she believed him.

Mortals were always so easily fooled.

"Oh. Were you listed as her next of kin then?"

"I did not know I was until I got the telephone call, I was abroad during the trial and just arrived yesterday. The moment I discovered that dear Sonya had got the verdict she deserved then I knew I had to go to her."

The lady was eating it out of his hand. As he suspected, she was one who thrived on gossip.

"So you know Sonya very well then?" She had leaned forward in her seat, eager for more.

"Oh yes, well enough to be counted as a close acquaintance of hers."

"So, so you know the truth of what happened, about the trial and what not?"

He took a seat in the remaining chair on the bed, and let go of Sonya's hand. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead.

"You have to understand, that there are things I can't say, due to my closeness with Sonya."

Her face fell, and internally, he chuckled gleefully as she fell feet first into his trap. He pretended to look regretful, and then thoughtful.

"How about, you tell me what you know, and I will confirm whether it is true or not."

It worked. For the next hour he was told how Sonya Rother, formerly Littmann, married to heir to a business empire, unaware that beneath a façade of wealth and beauty her new husband was nothing more than a sadist, a misogynist with a history of abuse towards women that had been conveniently swept under the carpet by his powerful family. A miscarriage, the result of too many beatings, and multiple hospitalizations. How Mr Littmann had become paranoid and obsessed with his young and beautiful wife, refusing to let her leave the house. The doctors who had said that Mrs Littmann would not have survived if her husband were alive, her body unable to withstand that much abuse for much longer. That the night he was murdered, Mr Littmann had flown into a drink fuelled rage, and attacked his wife, with the intent to kill her. He never got the chance though, because she grabbed a bronze statuette, and fought her husband off, hitting him over and over again, until he would not get up again. When she was discovered the next day, calmly sitting in a pool of her husband's blood, Sonya confessed to the murder of her husband, and went willingly with the authorities.

Mrs Addett fell silent at the end of the tale, and sensing that the gentleman wished to be left alone with the young lady he was clearly so enamoured with, left the room to go in search of a vending machine.

Loki regarded Sonya, lying silently in the bed. He was no longer surprised at her reluctance to explain her situation. Although he had the base facts, for someone who craved knowledge such as him, the information he had been supplied with wasn't enough.

He knew that if her husband alive, then he would ensure that the man meet with pain. Even on Asgard such behaviour was forbidden, and punishable by death. As he continued to regard her, he thought that she would be a warrior maiden, or a Valkyrie if she were born and lived in his home.

Inside, he believed that he had found a kindred spirit, someone who was as outcast and misunderstood as he was.


	6. Chapter 5

**I know, I'm sorry! You are all well within your rights to cause me bodily harm. Unfortunately when one is training to be a costume designer, it does take up all of your life as you know it! Anyways here is the next chapter of The Bittersweet Love! Read and review as always, and enjoy Loki!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine **

**Chapter 5**

Sonya would later reflect that emerging from unconscious due to a head injury was like waking after a long sleep. Fighting through layers of weariness and forcing her body to respond to her mental demands was physically taxing in the weeks following her recovery; she was at risk of a coma, apparently, that a head injury that severe should have caused more damage than it does. Strange, the doctors murmured, unusual, uncommon.

To Sonya, this was more attention that she did not want nor need. In the short time that she had been unconscious, word had spread throughout the hospital that she was in residence, and Sonya was fully expecting to read about her own hospitalization in the tabloids any day now.

Looking out over her garden as she sat on a recliner on the decking, Sonya smiled softly as Adam waved to her from the climbing frame. As ever he was her biggest concern, particularly with her being ill. Although in a twisted way she could rely on her parents to keep their opinions about her situation to themselves when he were with them, the same could not be said of her neighbours, the erstwhile Mr and Mrs Addett. Two of the nosiest and interfering individuals she had ever had the misfortune to meet in her life. They were the negative aspect to her new home, and she thanked the stars that her house was not overlooked by them. Already they commented on, well, everything and anything she did. Adam did not appear to be too discomforted by his stay with them, however. Recently he had been mentioning a 'Liam', who had visited with him at the Addetts, and at the hospitial, the nurses had spoken about a 'Mr Oldin', who was ever so charming, and quite gorgeous, who had sat by her bedside nearly every day.

Sonya had a very strong suspicion just who this Mr Oldin was, assuming that he was also this Liam. Loki, God of Lies and Mischief, and of evil, some say. She shut down the lid of her laptop, rubbing her eyes as the glare of the light stung them and frowning. The God had already threatened her son, and could have seriously harmed her, and now he was visiting? Mischief was not a label she would attach to this behaviour. Not for the first time, she cursed the apparent ability she had acquired of attracting deranged and violent men.

A little hand touched hers, and she opened her eyes and smiled at Adam, picking him up and securing him in her arms, revelling for a moment in his softness and innocence, thankful that he did not seem changed from their past experiences. For one perfect moment, they were both totally at peace with the world.

Until it was shattered by the doorbell.

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Loki waited patiently, a bunch of red roses in his hand. Apparently it was a mortal custom to give flowers to those you value, and Loki did value her. She did not realise how important she was to him, as form of relief from the mind numbing dullness of life. Sonya was a pet, but she didn't realise it. When he was bored once more, he would dispose of her from his life in a suitable manor, but until then, why not make full use of her? He was a God, a higher being, and she was human. Insignificant and unimportant, with a fascinating life story, but all lives end, and eventually, so would her story. He enjoyed visiting his pet; it was so much more fun when she was awake, functioning and responding. Even the boy, so untouched by the drama of his mother's life, was important for now. And he was truly interested in exploring the resilience of a boy like him.

Sonya answered the door, saw him, frowned and moved to close it again. Wedging his foot in the doorway, he smiled cruelly.

'Hello Sonya dearest.'

**Not very long I'm afraid, more of a filler. I'm a sick, fluey mess tonight, this is all my brain is able to churn out right now! **

**Stay tuned.**


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